


Scar Scattered- {M.D/TWD}

by grim_ey



Category: The Walking Dead
Genre: Multi, The Walking Dead Season 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 15:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8805871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grim_ey/pseuds/grim_ey
Summary: Olivia Harley Otto is a walking tragedy, her past as wounded as the dead that roam the surface. She's alive, yet she's lifeless.





	1. 0/: poetic shit

> _**"** _
> 
> _**An asylum is what they presented in substitution,** _
> 
> _**A shelter for the insane.** _
> 
> _**So each one gouged theirselves from any sanity,** _
> 
> _**In order to find a fictional sanctuary.** _
> 
> _**"** _

~yours truly~


	2. 1/: remorse

The moment that one comes to realisation of how bad one fucked up, is one of the most insightful experiences that one can endure. In this case, it filled a drug ridden soul hanging in limbo on the top of a department store among the isolated city.

Birdsong echoed through the male in distress; he could almost see her face projected in the beautiful blue morning sky. He had always imagined that she would end up there, yet it was what awoke him in the sleepless nights crying out her name.

A certain understanding settled within him, for he knew that he would never live up in the clouds with her; he would be far below the surface, burning in the fiery depths. She was his angel, and he her demon. However, he did not believe in any sort of God. Although now, he begged to every single one for any slither of hope.

Disturbing the eery silence, the handcuffs around his right hand clattered against the piping; the metal on metal sound penetrating the surrounding quietness.

Gradually, his eyes drifted to the impending doom that encased not only his wrist, but any sort of future he had on this Earth.

Once again, he directed his gaze back up to the now greying sky. It confirmed his loss of faith, that there would be some sort of rescue party; now he knew it would not come soon enough - if it ever did.

Screams erupted from his parted lips, dropped jaw. The disconcerting noise pulsed through the chilling air - a never ending echo - his cry into the atmosphere shrunk by the mere irrelevance of it. He was just a pebble, compared to the boulder of the world.

Eventually, his voice became hoarse; his throat dry - unable to carry on. The last of his outburst wasn't the smoothest. The cacophony of wails, ended in a jagged mess.

In the course of time, his strangled screams turned to silent tears as he sunk deeper into the hard concrete beneath him.

The cocaine still flowed through his system, it was the only thing that he had left - the nearly empty little transparent bag in his rugged jean pocket. He dreaded the day that that bag was drained of life, for then he would be. That day would bring back the memories that he had tried ever so hard to battle on his own, but had yet again fallen under the spell of the easy way out.

The other female in his life drifted across and into his mind. The pain that riddled through him each time, never made an effort to lessen. It was still as strong as the first time that the news radiated over him in a wave of dismal and a never ending trauma.

"I'm sorry Florence..." he choked out in a hushed tone, breathing out deeply into the open sky. Her name rolled off of his tongue, as if it was designed just for that purpose. The air was thick with remorse, a deep and painful regret for the wrongdoing he had bared the most innocent form of life.

When will this dream end - this nightmare, he thought to himself staring up at the cloudless sky. At the start of the apocalypse, all three of them had been so out of their minds - away with the fairies - that they weren't one hundred percent that it was all real. Oh, how he wished that this was all a hallucinogenic phase, and that he was in reality back in the small homely cabin that they shared. All the same, he knew that his wish would not be granted; there was no fairy god mother for him. This was no fairy tale...

It was as if he had awoken from this dreamlike state, this haziness being lifted. A certain clarity washed over him, like the sea washing him ashore.

Steadily, he rose, and soon his black boots became familiar with the metal piping. Fuelled by his determination to find his love again, to find his home - because wherever she was he belonged with her.

It had probably been five months since he had seen so clear. Five months since the incident that broke not only him, but everyone the story touched. It had sent the three of them into a downward spiral, drilling themselves into the ground just three months before the end of the world had decided to come along. He guessed it had been roughly two or so months since shit hit the fan.

Regret brimmed within himself, almost overflowing, with what he had put her through. Anger at himself for searching for someone to blame, and so settling for her to shift it all onto. He should have supported her, he should have protected her; instead he left her all alone in the lingering guilt. But now, it was too late...

And so that is what powered him to keep going, to keep trying, to get back to her. An apology was in her debt, it was all he could do to at least try to make up for all the pain he had caused her.

At last, the pipe caved in; the handcuffs became loose from it.

It was then that he stood. The landscape broadening over the horizon. Each building riddled with destruction - scar scattered - just like the heart he needed to fix.

The handcuffs dangled from his right hand; hanging in the oblivion...

  
//*907*\\\


End file.
